


Pavlov's Cows

by IntelligentAirhead



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Family bonding on ancient all-terrain vehicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntelligentAirhead/pseuds/IntelligentAirhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jim and farm animals share a mutual distrust, vehicles that belong in museums are ridden, and Sam is a perfect example of why brothers were clearly invented to annoy the hell out of everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pavlov's Cows

It probably figured that the only place one could ever seem to find an all terrain vehicle with actual wheels and an honest to god fuel-driven engine was smack dab in the middle of Riverside, Iowa, also known as the least advanced community to be constructing a ship meant to explore the bounds of space. If anything, Riverside had retrogressed in the wake of such progress. All the parts that could be utilized as building materials found themselves intercepted and drafted into duty aboard the USS Enterprise. Jim was sure they felt very honored. 

Personally, he found that the possibility of captaining the ATV currently under him was a much more likely occurrence than ever being allowed near the starship in question. Therefore, he would take his duties of command to heart with stringent dedication and control.

“Eat grass, Sam!” Jim revved the engines, propelling the four-wheeler to greater speeds. One day he’d modify it so that it could go even faster. “Like hell, Jim,” came his brother’s response, nearly lost in the noise of the antiquated engines. They’d already accomplished the task of riding the vehicles out to dump the waste, so now they had them all to themselves. “Watch out!”

Buffy, a hen who seemed to emulate the kamikaze warriors of old, made for Jim’s AMV. She had a habit of attempting to dive beneath Jim’s wheels. However, by now Jim was accustomed to her tricks. He swerved out of the way with relative ease before he drove the vehicle into the large expanse of the field to his right. 

Once driving through the taller grass of the field, grasshoppers began to assault him, flying into his chest at speeds high enough to make a sound when they whapped him. The fuckers hurt, too. If he slowed down, they would hop away harmlessly, butterflies trailing in their wake. It was always weird to be revving away on a destructive gas-powered machine while butterflies flew before him, but it was also pretty calming. For now, however, he had only one speed: beat-the-ass-off-Sam fast. 

Sam always slowed down before he came to the uneven ridges that rose intermittently in the field, afraid that he’d fall off with too big a jolt. Jim knew that if he rose with the shock, relaxed the tension that pervaded his muscles, and gripped well enough he’d be fine. He’d tried to tell Sam that before, but he’d done the whole, “I’m older than you, I’m allowed to legally drive anything I damn well choose to that’s street-legal, and that automatically means I’m god’s gift to piloted machinery,” thing. Sam was a douche.

“I’ll beat you one day,” Sam muttered as he pulled up beside Jim. Jim had been considering taking a 4D of a rather fluffy cumulus cloud that bore a more than accurate resemblance to a dick, and so he had stopped for a moment. “Sam, you couldn’t even beat Q’Rele, and she’s from a planet made up of something like ninety-five percent water.” Sam huffed. “I let her win. She has a Tu’farah as a pet. If I become part of her harem I can have my own shark-thing.”

Jim eyed him, unimpressed. “I’m pretty sure the dishonor of not putting forth your best effort on her planet calls for execution. Just saying.” A baleful moo arose from the mass of cows gathered at the nearby barbed wire fence. “The cows agree with me. They may be evil, sad little fuckers, but they agree.”

“What’s your problem with the cows?” Sam asked, not for the first time. Jim shrugged. He didn’t tell him about how the few cows they had on Tarsus IV had been slaughtered before they could eat what little crops were left for the colonists. He didn’t tell him about the betrayed sounds that escaped the animals. He didn’t tell him about how it had been “them or us” and how it had ended up being both. He’d never told his brother any of that. He hadn’t told _anyone_ that.

“They always expect food to come when they see us,” Jim huffed “It’s some Pavlovian response that makes them totally reliant on us for food. I could get off this ATV for five minutes and they’d pay me no mind, but as soon as I get on it, they immediately trust that I have food. It’s a stupid connection.”

Sam measured him with his stare, but Jim didn’t look at him. “Alright,” he sighed. Jim practically itched with the awkward emotional silence, so he broke it with a blasé, “so I saw that someone had been watching a holo by the name of All Girl Sex Marathon: The Lesbian Sleepover Edition. Anything you want to tell me, Sam?”

Jim didn’t stop laughing when Sam pushed him off the ATV and sped away, not even when a grasshopper slammed into his face as he chased after him.


End file.
